


I'll Wear Your Jawbone Around My Neck

by ashyfur524, TrickrTreason



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Assault, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Delusions, Don’t copy to another site, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Healthy Relationship, Hallucinations, Human Squip (Be More Chill), Kidnapping, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Murder, Power Imbalance, Stockholm Syndrome, Verbal Abuse, cannibal kink, yeah ikr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2019-11-23 21:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18157073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashyfur524/pseuds/ashyfur524, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickrTreason/pseuds/TrickrTreason
Summary: Jeremy wakes up in a basement, bleeding out and chained to a wall with a cannibal just upstairs, waiting for him.You read the tags, you know what you're getting into





	1. Play Destroy

Caucasian adult male, painfully average looking and the sort of posture that said he was a chronic maturbator. No vehicle, he was walking presumably home, late at night in the part of town where criminals lurked. Criminals like Squip, leaning into the back seat of his car for a bat, waiting for his victim to come close enough to his car, close enough for him to strike without anyone noticing. Just when the man was about five feet from the hood of his car, Squip opened the door and followed him, lurking in the shadows before hitting him squarely on the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. He scooped the body up and brought him into his car, throwing his body like a sack of so much laundry into his backseat. Squip rummaged through the man’s pockets, securing any ID or weapons he might have on him, nothing but a battered iPhone, a wallet with about 35 dollars and some IDs in it. His driver's license read Jeremy Heere, and yes, he will do just fine. 

Driving home, far away from the city into a deep wooded area up a steep dirt driveway, Squip brough Jeremy into his house, placing him in his basement he could finally get a better look at the boy. Scrawny, pale skin littered with freckles and acne scars, wavy brown hair that fell gracelessly across his face, what a specimen, truly, waif like and delicate. Squip would take great pleasure in carving such a pretty boy up for a meal. He stalked up the stairs, passing the time for his little meal to wake up by scouring cookbooks, finding something delicious for his prize. 

When Jeremy awoke several hours later he was painfully aware of all his limbs screaming at him to please go back to sleep. He felt the back of his head only to be met with rusty blood staining his finger tips. Where was he? Blearily he took in his surrounding, dark and grey with a large metal freezer and desk facing opposite him and a winding staircase to his left. There looked like bone saws hanging from the ceiling, and a large meat hook dangling down. He shifted slightly only to realize he couldn't make it too far away from the wall, chain attached to his ankle keeping him put. Above him he could hear footsteps, strong and heavy and easily able to overpower him. Jeremy felt his breathing hitch as he turned to see a sliver of light peek through the now open door. Biting down on his lip to suppress the scream that was dying to rise from his throat he kept his eyes trained on the shadowy figure descending the stairs. 

He was gonna die down here, wasn't he? 

Jeremy knew he couldn't run, even trying would be borderline brain dead behavior, but he figured if he played hardball he might be able to live for another day, and one more day would be enough for now. He reared himself up into a defensive posture that one might take if they were playing leapfrog keeping his eyes glued to the stairs. 

“What the fuck is this?” he wanted to snarl, hoping to project an aura of confidence, anything besides the crippling, all-consuming terror he felt flip flopping in his stomach. “Let me go!” he could have yelled if he wanted to get his throat instantly slashed open. Jeremy ran a tongue over his split lip, blood hot and metallic on his tongue. 

“What are you going to do with me?” he managed, trying to force his voice to stop shaking. 

Squip smiled, how cute, his meal was trying to play brave. Trying. He had done this enough times to see that even under the best bravado the fear in someone’s eyes when they know they’re helpless is something they can never mask. Though it was awfully sweet to see them try for his benefit, as if that would change his fate. He place a hand on his hip and tapped his lower lip mockingly, oozing the smug confidence that any successful serial killer should have. 

“Well, I had planned to skin you, free what little meat you have off your pathetically twig like body and carve your flesh, see if you have anything of use, I may need to fatten you up. Then I believe, oh yes, my plan was to cook you and eat you,” Squip said, voice teasingly light and playful, striding towards his prey with long legs. 

He leaned into Jeremy’s face and whispered into his ear. “Your little ass will be decadent, nonetheless.” Then, standing upright, he laughed, a long resounding laugh that bounced and echoed off the basement walls as if he had just told the best joke of his life, his face contorted in a grin that looked unsuited for his bone structure, snarling and feral. 

“Now, is that alright by you?” he asked smoothly. 

Jeremy felt his throat close, and felt himself begin to hyperventilate, crumbling against the wall in a pathetic quivering mass of flesh and bone. The man who had taken him was still right in front of him, and some part of his brain shouted at him to try and get away, to show he wouldn’t be an easy kill. He forced his breathing to stabilize, keeping his head down as his fingers curled. Then, allowed the terror-fueled part of his brain that wanted to fight for his life to take over, turning his upper body away before using the buildup to launch his fist into the man’s groin. 

“Not really, no…”

Squip doubled over in pain, the wind knocked completely out of his lungs. He looked own at the man on his floor, trying to break free of his chains, crawling forward. 

“Shit,” he wheezed. “Look at you. So much resilience still left in you. Too bad you’re locked up!” It was obvious now that Squip had underestimated the man, how easy it would be to break him. He won’t make the same mistake twice. Regaining his composure he grabbed Jeremy by the scruff of his neck and tossed his gracelessly against the wall of his basement. 

“Oh, we’re going to have such fun together, little pet,” he snarled. Jeremy’s chest heaved and he clenched his jaw. 

“My name is Jeremy… and I will never stop fighting against you..” he growled, scrambling to try and get up. “I’m never going to stop struggling, never gonna stop trying to find some way to get out and I will get back home…” he panted softly, standing a bit shakily as he used the wall to help him upright. Squip tilted his head at Jeremy, a look of mock concern painting his features. 

“Tch, oh I know. You’re such a fighter aren’t you, my own little fighter. And surely people will miss you and come looking for you,” he mocked sweetly. He slammed his fist against the wall, inches from Jeremy’s face, reveling in the way he flinched despite himself. 

“Isn’t that right Jeremy? People will miss you?” he spat viciously. “Just like they missed all the others.” He walked towards the stairs, keys jingling tauntingly in his hand. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said before walking calmly up the stairs, slamming the door shut in his wake, locks clicking into place. Outside the basement, Squip leaned against the doorframe breathless, tongue darting out to moisten his dry lips. It was always more fun when he got to break their spirits. 

Downstairs, Jeremy slumped against the wall, sobbing into his hands as his captor’s words spun around in his ears. Michael would miss him, but who else really would? Another thought floated into his head, rooting itself into his brain. How many others had been here, slumped against this wall, waiting to die in a stranger’s basement? He laid himself down, studying the the rusty blood stains on the concrete. He couldn’t allow himself to sleep. 

Even in the upstairs portion of the house, Squip could hear Jeremy’s muffled cries of distress. Good. It was about time he’d gotten used to his place in the food chain. 

‘Still,’ he thought, spinning his tea bag around in his mug. There’s something about Jeremy that sets him apart. He didn’t plead for his life or try to appeal to any conscience Squip may have. He fought back. He’s so incredibly weak and yet brainlessly deluded himself into thinking that maybe he could win against Squip. It reminded him of something, something he couldn’t place at the moment. He hummed and sipped at his tea, he really ought to at least try to put some meat on Jeremy’s bones, it would have been well over 24 hours since his last meal at this rate, victims that died of starvation or malnutrition weren’t worth the little meat they hung off their bones. Last week’s leftovers should do just nicely, a shepard’s pie, what was it called again, Jessica? Squip smiled to himself as he brought down a plate of steaming food. Perhaps he would be able to see Jeremy struggle again tonight. 

Jeremy glanced up as the door opened again, and he resisted the urge to shrink down into himself. Blue-green eyes were trained on the plate and a hot wave of nausea flooded through him, the bile bubbling up in the back of his throat. He cocked his head slightly to the side, hair falling over his face, moving his feet underneath him just in case. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, no amount of seasoning could make Jeremy forget he was being offered another human as his dinner. 

Squip stopped about a foot in front of Jeremy, all too cautious from their last encounter and put the plate of food on the floor, sliding it closer with the toe of his shoe. 

“Go on,” he goaded. “You must be starving, you’ve been knocked out for several hours.” But Jeremy just stared up at him silently. Squip rolled his eyes, the silent treatment, how puerile. 

“You’re acting like a child,” he scolded. “Are you a child, Jeremy?” Still nothing. Squip massaged the bridge of his nose. 

“You’ll have to eat something eventually.” Nothing, just big blank eyes staring him down, daring him to say anything.This was wearing down on Squip’s last nerve. Normally his victims were so ravenous at this point they would eat anything, he could even hear the moaning cries of Jeremy’s stomach. 

“Jesus, what do you want from me, brat? Take-out?” he snarled, throwing his arms up in frustration. Jeremy shrugged, finally showing Squip some sort of response. 

“Dunno, are you offering?” he asked. “And to answer your first question, I’m just a year over the legal drinking age so, yeah, I think I’m still in the in-between of being an adult and a child. So what’s your excuse for trying to temper tantrum me in eating someone.” Even in his dulled out tone, Squip could hear a hint of smugness that infuriated him. It would be so nice to just kill him now but it wasn’t worth his meat going sour while he still had leftovers in his freezer. Squip took a breath in through his nose and calmed himself. 

“So let me guess, you consist off of either pizza or some greasy burger chain restaurant?” he asked, barely keeping his snobbery out of his voice. “I’d call in your order for pick-up, of course, wouldn’t want anyone suspecting you’re here,” he said with a wink. 

“Now, as for your question, what’s my excuse? I’m at the top of the food chain here. It would do you good to remember this. In my world you don’t have a voice.” Jeremy sunk down petulantly. 

“Yeah, ok, kinda hard to forget since I’m chained to your wall, but ok,” Jeremy nodded, running his tongue along his teeth. “You got one of those bagged salads you get at the store when you’re too lazy to chop greens but you still want something fresh? That sounds good…” He smiled, sitting himself cross-legged to show that he had stopped being terrified, at least for the time being. Squip rolled his eyes but guessed that sass was better than silence. Maybe. 

“Do I look like someone that buys bagged salads?” he asked before immediately backpedaling, noticing the look playing on Jeremy’s face. “Don’t answer that. I’ll make you a salad, completely vegetarian, scouts honor,” he said, mock saluting. Jeremy rocked slightly. 

“Thank you… uh, you know my name but can I… can I get yours?” he asked the dark maniac who was holding him hostage in his basement, mounting the stairs. He realized he was stimming a bit, squeezing his right hand rapidly as if he was having his blood drawn, but he didn’t really care if this dude saw he wasn’t normal. Neither was the guy who was planning on eating him. Squip looked over his shoulder at Jeremy, a fidgeting anxious mess and so unlike the brat that had been challenging him all night. ‘Perhaps,’ Squip thought, ‘he had finally broken him.’ But probably not. 

“Squip,” he said tersely, barely giving Jeremy a sideways glance as he climbed the stairs. “My full name is off limits to you, those are my initials.” 

He walked into his kitchen to prepare a salad of all things. At least it was healthy, he wouldn’t need to worry about fat building up on the boy’s lanky body considering they were crawling out of stewing season. It was much easier to catch a victim and then modify their body, rather than go seeking out the perfect meal when there is none. When he finished the salad Squip noticed a stress ball out of the corner of his eye. He sighed. Surely he’d regret this eventually. Bringing the salad down the basement steps he tossed the ball down, following it, watching it roll over blood stained cement before stopping at Jeremy’s shoe. 

“Here, for you,” he intoned blandly, placing the salad down on the floor. 

Jeremy squeezed the stress ball idly in his left hand, taking small handfuls of the green in his right. 

“Thank you, Squip…” he murmured, still rocking just a bit as he absently munched on his dinner. “For the squeeze ball, I mean.” 

Squip felt his face get warm despite himself at the thanks he got, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. It pleasantly stroked his ego in the same way it would if Jeremy was sobbing and begging for his life just below Squip’s blade. He hummed in return. 

“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat. “My tea is getting cold. Perhaps you’ll be more complacent in the morning,” he said before turning again towards the stairwell. “If you would recycle your plate when you’re done with it, that would be grand.” Walking up the stairs Squip returned to his tea and cook books, planning what he should do with Jeremy well into the early hours of the morning before falling asleep at his kitchen table, exhausted. 

Jeremy lay on his back, fiddling with the edge of the now empty paper plate as he stared at the ceiling. The evening hadn’t gone as he thought it would, what with the whole “being kidnapped by a serial killer, specifically to be eaten” thing hanging over his head. But his captor had been kind enough to actually make him a salad, and he brought him a stim tool. Squip didn’t have to do that for him. And yet…

Jeremy rolled over at some point in the night, his stomach grumbling at him. He frowned, exhaling as he remembered he’d eaten all the salad he had earlier, and started chewing absently on the paper. Squip had asked him to get rid of it… He jerked head back a bit, tearing a small piece of paper free and chewing on it as if it were a piece of gum. Despite his chain being long enough to reach the edge of the basement’s steps he refused to move. That was one way to not maybe get stabbed by going upstairs.


	2. Caricature of Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> breakfast and confusing feelings

When Squip woke up he had to peel his face awake from the open book left on his dining room table. The sun shone in through his windows displaying the gorgeous greenery of secluded forest around him He peered over at the basement door, recycling bin left empty. Was Jeremy truly that incompetent or was he littering his house out of spite? Squip started up his coffee maker, waiting for the pot to finish brewing and tapping his fingers against his lower lip. A terribly annoying tic that he had picked up at some point and just couldn’t seem to drop. 

As the coffee pot dripped and hummed he fished out a mug for himself and an aged styrofoam cup for Jeremy. Caffeine was a hard addiction to kill and anxiety was bad for good meat, causing it to tense and harden, best to keep him relatively comfortable if he wants a good cut. Yes, that’s why he’s doing this. Squip padded down the basement steps and turned on the lights, the smell of coffee pervading the room. 

“Rise and shine,” he sang out monotonously. Jeremy blinked awake as the lights flicked in, the paper plate folded in half in his hands. 

“Morning…” he grumbled, pushing himself up and squinting as he was handed the styrofoam cup. “Thanks…?” He studied the surface of the drink, setting it down next to the paper plate. “That’s not, like, drugged or anything, right?” he asked, his brain still foggy with sleep. 

“No,” Squip said calmly. “If I wanted to drug you I’d simply gas you through the vents,” and pointed out several vents around the small room. “Caffeine is essential to the standard American diet, I’d hate to disrupt yours.” Squip smirked in a way that said he didn’t give a fuck about disrupting anything about Jeremy’s way of life. 

“I see you ignored my request to recycle your plate,” he said, gesturing to the offending object. “Any reason why or are you disobeying me to have some semblance of control left?” Jeremy blanched a bit, but shrugged, tugging on his chain. 

“It doesn’t go far enough, you made it that way. I didn’t want to have to become part of a Saw trap and rip my foot off,” he ripped off a piece of his paper plate and popped it into his mouth, it seemed all he was getting for breakfast was coffee, so he’d make due. Squip snorted at him, simpering grin playing on his angular face. 

“And I presume you can’t throw? The bin is only up the stairs.” His eyes trailed downwards as he watched Jeremy begin to eat his paper plate. 

“Philistine,” he sneered. “If you’re so hungry I can simply make you breakfast. You are after all my,” Squip waved a hand in the air languidly as if reaching for the right word. “Esteemed guest.” Jeremy glared at him, huffing indignantly. 

“I can throw, I just didn’t want to risk getting stabbed by maybe waking you up or whatever. And I’m good, no need to overexert yourself on me, I’ve got this. I can make this coffee last until lunch and I can probably make the plate last until tonight… unless you don’t want me to starve myself or otherwise dampen my nutritional value by allowing me to continue eating this paper?” Jeremy smirked up at Squip, taking a small sip of his coffee. 

“Oh yes, because I waited outside my basement door all night, just waiting to stab you for my own amusement, you watch too many bad horror movies,” Squip snarked, rolling his eyes. When Jeremy’s smug expression didn’t dampen Squip shot him a withering glare. 

“Oh, I bet you think you’re so smart. You’ve outsmarted me Jeremy, I never thought about if a meal would refuse to eat for me. I certainly do not have an array of cook books to turn to nor have I ever heard of cooking with lean meat. Your gamey meat will surely turn my stomach,” Squip lied dramatically, smiling meanly. He tapped at his lower lip, shifting his weight in thought, perhaps he’d need to try something different. 

“I’m in the mood for pancakes,” he said lightly. Jeremy hummed in return. 

“Ok, you want me to help or am I just down here?” he asked, tilting his head a bit as he felt the caffeine begin to make its rounds through his veins. He was most definitely awake now. Squip strode over to him and ran his fingers through Jeremy’s hair like he was a very stupid puppy. 

“Not yet, I can’t trust you to not escape, now can I? Though, at some point I’ll have to let you relieve yourself, perhaps shower. Supervised, obviously.” He hummed in thought before ruffling Jeremy’s hair slightly. 

“Though I will bring you down breakfast, I don’t expect you to eat it but let it be known I’m an accommodating man,” he ran his fingers down the side of Jeremy’s face before bringing his hand back to his side. Jeremy’s lips parted a bit under Squip’s contact, resisting the impulse to lean into the touch. Was this was Stockholm syndrome was? He watched Squip turn on his heel sharply and left the basement. This had to be what that was, there was no way that some guy who was all Jeremy could think about- could just kidnap him and have Jeremy feeling all flustered in his basement, all while the guy who kidnapped him planned how to best serve his flesh. 

But why did he want more? Why the fuck was he starting to like having someone basically holding him prisoner in their house. It had to be a personal problem, something he’d probably have to work out with a very expensive therapist when he escaped from here. 

When Squip got to his kitchen he was absolutely rattled. Why would he routinely offer his prey food and comfort, why would he go down and visit just for the conversation? Just looking in his freezer, at all the cut up bits of human he harbored he knew this wasn’t something of a routine problem and yet… Squip could have sworn he saw Jeremy relax into his touch, and it made his heart flutter in a decidedly un-homicidal way. 

He’s heard of this before, Lima syndrome. Though in those cases the kidnapper let their victim go, which was the opposite of what Squip wanted. He shook these distracting thoughts from his head and attempted to focus on the task at hand. Pancakes. Sure. Why not? He’ll make Jeremy some damn fine pancakes if it’ll stop him from feeling these confusing feelings for a bit. 

Jeremy stretched out on the floor, inhaling the scent of cooking pancakes as it wafted down the stairs. His stomach complained lightly, growling at the thought of warm food. He shut his eyes and allowed his mind to carry him away into a fantasy of sorts, him curled up under the covers, Squip cooking him breakfast in bed, followed by a morning full of snuggles and sweet nothings murmured just loud enough for the other to hear. 

Yeah, he was definitely going crazy. 

Squip looked down at the tray of food he prepared. Pancakes, more coffee and a bottle of water. He had no idea what he was doing, he could pretend he was doing this to lure Jeremy into a false sense of security but he knew deep down that wasn’t quite right. He was probably going through another manic episode and he’ll be back to normal in a few days but, right now he wants to eat breakfast with Jeremy. He carefully walks down the steps and sets the tray of food down between himself and Jeremy, grabbing his own plate off the tray. He saw Jeremy stretched out on the floor when he first came down and a thought ran through his head and unfortunately out his mouth. 

“I can bring you down some pillows and blankets,” he said lamely, not looking up from his plate. Jeremy blinked rapidly, flushing a bit at the offer and sitting up. 

“I’d appreciate that..” he murmured, taking a bite of his pancakes and nearly melted at the taste. “You make good pancakes..” He smiled gently, taking note of how his captor wasn’t looking at him. Squip heard a softness in Jeremy’s voice and couldn’t bare to look at him. Couldn’t bare to see the earnestness in his eyes. Though he did preen internally at the compliment, if anything- Jeremy fed his ego better than anyone had. 

“Thank you,” he said into his pancakes. “I’m not classically trained but I get by taking night classes.” Then he made the mistake of looking up. 

God, even covered in bruises, blood and filth, the way Jeremy looked at him… Squip felt a hot, embarrassing blush rise from his collar bones to his face. He was beautiful. He was always beautiful but now Squip feared he was seeing Jeremy in a brand new light. Jeremy inched closer a bit to Squip, setting his food down and situating himself at his side. He wanted to just lay down, to rest his head in Squip’s lap and allow him to card through his messy hair, to fall asleep listening to the dull beat of his pulse. He wanted to be warm. 

“You okay, mastermind?” he asked softly, pleasantly confused by Squip’s rapid emotional switch. Maybe he’d survive after all. 

Squip tensed slightly, feeling another body so close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he willingly let someone get this close to him. He held on tightly to Jeremy’s every word and felt his heart flutter uncomfortably at the nickname, wishing that he could go back to the other night when he felt so in charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter but the next few will be pretty plot heavy of Squip and Jeremy getting to know each other


	3. Dirty Type of Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> creepy boy catches vaguely unrequited feelings

“I-I don’t know. I’m feeling very peculiar at the moment,” he said, daring himself to look Jeremy in the eyes. He felt vulnerable against the broken man he chained to his wall. “There’s something terribly wrong with me, I’m not normally like… like this,” he said gesturing to the food, hoping Jeremy would understand his point. 

“What? Like a nice person?” Jeremy prodded. “You’re telling me that an attractive older dude like you has never looked at someone as anything other than food? You’re saying that nobody’s ever come up to you and been like ‘wow, you’re super hot, take me home and ravish me’ and then you like, fuck them and hit climax as you rip their throat out with your teeth or some shit?” He searched Squip’s face, seeing a trace of humanity in his dark eyes that he’d been unable to notice before. 

“You’re warm…” Jeremy said as he leaned against Squip’s side. Squip shifted slightly in his spot on the floor. 

“I’ve never found other humans fascinating in that way. Most are weak and cowardly and pitiful, completely self serving in the face of danger.” He cleared his throat. “As for sex, I prefer not to sleep with my future meals if I can. That should sum it up quite nicely.” 

Squip watched Jeremy lean against him and his skin tingled pleasantly at the other’s touch. He snaked an arm around him and ran his fingers through the unruly brown locks, pausing in thought. 

“Do you really think I’m attractive?” he asked quietly, voice betraying him. Jeremy flushed at Squip’s question, wetting his lips a bit. 

“I, uh, yeah, you’re super hot dude, pretty sure you’d be swarmed by chicks if you were just a normal guy. Although it’s kinda rude of me to assume that you don’t catch people that way… I would, if I had a fraction of your charm and was into eating human flesh,” he admitted softly. 

Squip chuckled, low and deep, his grin showing off glistening white teeth as if to remind Jeremy why he was there. Jeremy felt himself swoon just a bit when Squip laughed, the deep timbre sending chills down his spine. 

“Yes well, the kind I catch like that are usually the same, squirming, mewling cumdumps that need dick more than oxygen and erroneously believe I will provide them. They’re cheap and prone to making poor decisions, no one is surprised when they disappear. But you on the hand,” Squip turned and faced Jeremy, studying him with a skillful eye. 

“You’re different, aren’t you?” he said at last. And with shaking hand he brushed away the hair that had fallen into Jeremy’s eyes, then smiled, soft and wistful. 

“Am I?” His heart fluttered as Squip smiled at him, actually smiled at him. Christ, when he wasn’t trying to murder him he was actually really cute. 

“Truly,” Squip replied, voice painfully earnest before remembering himself. He cleared his throat and looked away. This was strange, he was caught completely unawares by his victim, still chained to his wall but looking at him the way no man nor woman ever had before. It made his heart race, it made his stomach sick. It made him yearn in a way he never had. 

“Out of all the people I’ve met this way, you’re the only one I feel I’ll be sad to see die,” he said at last. 

“Then don't kill me,” Jeremy murmured, offering a small smile. He moved his hand to gently cup Squip’s cheek, turning his head to face him again. “I don’t have to die if you don’t want me to, you’re the one in charge, remember?” he said softly, beginning to wonder who was really more captive in this situation. 

“If you stay,” Squip murmured, leaning blissfully into his touch. “You must know the consequences. There will be others in your place, chained to my wall like pigs for the slaughter- and they will be slaughtered- and eaten. I cannot let you go after all you’ve seen. If you live here, you can never go back to how you were,” he took in a deep shuddery breath. It was foolish at best to think that he could make Jeremy happy in his lifestyle, but god there was something about seeing the spark in his eyes that made Squip want to try, even if just in the final hours of his life. Jeremy nodded slowly. 

“As long as you don’t make me watch like some kind of gladiatorial event, I think I can deal with that… and I’d have to fall off the grid, right? Make sure I don’t leave my phone on or anything,, don’t leave this place without you, that kind of thing?” Squip nodded. 

“I wouldn’t, having two victims at a time is too dangerous should they team up. And yes, you will have to keep and incredibly low profile while you are still considered missing, you may not use your phone or go wandering out of this house,” Squip paused then, and reached for his pocket, bringing out the jingling ring of keys he keeps on him. 

“I’m going to unlock you, if you run or try to break for the stairwell I will kill you, and it will be easy,” he said before taking a deep breath and reaching for Jeremy’s chain. It unlocked with a loud click. 

Jeremy rubbed at his ankle gently, smiling in relief as he realized that Squip was going to try and trust him. Trust seemed like something he needed help with and as long as he could keep Squip’s trust, he could live. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, scooting himself close and curling into Squip’s lap, resting his head against Squip’s chest and listening to the metronome of his heart. Squip gasped lightly, feeling Jeremy in his lap. He didn’t run away, he didn’t even try to keep his distance. Squip’s heart swelled and bubbled as he wrapped his arms around the other man, holding him closer. He pressed his face into Jeremy’s hair and smelt blood, sweat and metal mingling with the last remnants of his shampoo. 

“I’m going to make you so happy,” he murmured into Jeremy’s hair, rubbing soothing circles into the fabric of his shirt, as if he were a pet, which was essentially how Jeremy felt. He curled his back into Squip’s hand, smiling to himself as a warm blush danced across his cheeks, pretending the man holding him was anyone else. 

“I think the best way to start is to let me take a shower, if you wouldn’t mind… but that doesn’t have to happen immediately.”

Squip hummed softly. 

“Of course,” he said calmly. “I’m sure you don’t mind my supervising, I can’t very well have you scampering off into the woods like an injured deer, something might try to eat you,” he scooped Jeremy up in his arms as if he weighed nothing, carrying him to the master bathroom upstairs. “And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Jeremy smiled. 

“That something wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?” Jeremy teased softly, draping his arms around Squip’s neck. “Or are the forests full of ocelots like in that one sci-fi story where that eccentric scientist abducts a bunch of people and watches them slowly go feral?” Jeremy suspects he got the cat wrong but he didn’t care too much for semantics at this point. 

Squip laughed, setting Jeremy down on the floor of his bathtub. 

“Hmmm, perhaps,” he said coyly. “Though there are no scientists, it’s just you, me and the coyotes for miles. And I’m sure I’d be very jealous if the coyotes got to you first.” He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing the shower curtain between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Can I assume you’re able to do this without assistance?” Squip asked. His voice was steady and even but his face gave away the blush that was dusting over his freckled cheeks. He had to refrain from biting his lower lip. 

Jeremy nodded, peeling his jeans off of his legs and tugging his shirt off, making a pile of his clothes by the side of the tub. He fingered at the waistband of his boxers, deciding it better to just rip the bandaid off instead of approaching it slowly. He put his boxers on the pile, turning the faucet on and pushing the drain plug into the drain. He nearly cried at how the warm water felt on his skin, and he began rinsing himself off. 

Squip expected that Jeremy would get undressed in front of him but he couldn’t have guessed his own reaction to it. Jeremy was all pale malnourished limbs and creamy soft looking skin littered with bruises that Squip couldn’t tell if he wanted to caress with his hand or with his blade. Like Venus reborn, Jeremy bathed in the rust colored water and Squip knew he was staring and his dignity, long forgotten in the back of his brain, begged him to to stop, but he didn’t. So he stared, lips parted and breath hitching at Jeremy’s every twist and turn. 

Jeremy paused, fingers curling as he went to grab the shampoo. 

“Uh, do you have like, a cup or something so I can rinse my hair and stuff without becoming a contortionist?” he asked, sitting in a way that made his vertebrae push against the fabric of his back and made the lower part of his shoulder blades ridge up, almost as if he was supporting unseen wings. 

Squip could feel his brain buffering, trying to understand what was just said to him. One minute he was enamored, mentally tracing down the ridges of Jeremy’s spine and the next he’s slapped into reality. This is real. 

5 things you can see. Shower curtains, black and white tiled floors, blood stained water, Jeremy and Jeremy’s filthy clothes. 

He’s let his victim free, if he could even call him that anymore, and is letting him bathe. Squip cleared his throat, trying in vain to gather up some sense of control. 

3 things you can hear. The water running, birds outside, his own blood pounding in his ears. 

“Yes, you stay put while I grab it,” he said, and then did, simply trusting that Jeremy wouldn’t leave. 

1 thing you can taste. Rust. 

Jeremy nodded, rocking gently as he waited for Squip to come back. He needed to rinse the blood out of his hair, and then maybe he could convince Squip to cuddle with him. He smiled as Squip’s form came into view and he popped the cap of the shampoo bottle open, pooling some in his palm and rubbing his hands together before lathering his hair with the soap. Squip’s heart fluttered as he saw Jeremy smiling up at him, and sat on his knees at Jeremy’s side. 

“I might ask you for a little help rinsing this out, if that’s okay,” Jeremy asked softly. 

“That’s perfectly alright,” Squip replied and waited for Jeremy’s signal before rinsing his hair, one hand on Jeremy’s forehead to keep the water from his eyes and the other scooping up water from the faucet. 

There was an intimacy to it, Squip had seen Jeremy vulnerable before but this, how willingly he let himself relax for Squip, the way his words comforted and soothed the static in his brain. Squip felt himself truly relaxing, indulging in the quiet moment. Jeremy hummed softly, somehow completely at ease under Squip’s gentle touch. He smiled as he reached for the conditioner, and the two of them repeated the process until his hair was free of dried blood and his pale skin warm to the touch. 

“Thank you.” He turned to face Squip as best he could in the tub. 

Squip smiled at Jeremy, he was so much more radiant underneath the blood and grime. So much so that Squip almost felt a twinge of jealousy that perhaps others before him got to see Jeremy like this. 

“I’ll bring you to my bedroom, you can pick out something to wear while I take care of your other clothes,” he said, gesturing to the filthy clothes on the floor. He almost asked if it was alright to do that before tamping the phrase way down deep, unwilling to show Jeremy just how much he’d been affected. Jeremy nodded slowly, standing himself up and toweling off. He followed behind Squip to his room, perching on the bed and watching him rummage through his clothes. 

“If you’ve got a hoodie, that’d be nice,” he said. Squip hummed in return. 

“I might have a hoodie buried around here somewhere.” He dug through his closet before reaching a familiar fabric. A well worn gray hoodie with a dark rust colored stain splattered across the front. Normally he wouldn’t have kept something so incriminating but this hoodie held sentiment. It was his first meal in his new lifestyle. Squip tossed it to Jeremy who caught the wad of fabric effortlessly. 

“It may be a bit big on you but I feel it should do nicely,” Squip said. Jeremy slipped into the hoodie, curling into himself. 

“You got sweatpants, too? I mean, if you want me here with my dick out that’s fine, but if you got sweatpants I’d appreciate them,” he murmured, looping his arms around his legs, holding them to his knees, completely losing the ability to filter himself. Jeremy was through trying to rationalize anything that happened to him at this point. Maybe… maybe if he could get Squip to fuck him it would ensure his safety. Squip stared quizzically at Jeremy before realization hit in. 

“Oh, of course,” duh, he thought. He ruffled through a bit more and found a pair of blue plaid sleep pants for Jeremy to wear. Looking at Jeremy, curled around himself defensively Squip felt again like he was taken out of some fantasy created to rationalize his strange behavior. This wasn’t his boyfriend, this was his prisoner, his former meal. Any kindness he shows is just to ensure he lives to see another day. Squip didn’t feel guilty but there was a gnawing feeling in his chest. As for any kindness Squip shows…he had no idea where it came from, but feared it would backfire on him terribly.


	4. The Angel I Couldn't Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting to know you, getting to know all about you

Each minute seemed to drag on for an eternity as Jeremy lay on the floor of the kitchen, fighting the urge to fall asleep. That wasn’t an option this afternoon. He had to get the fuck out of here. The clock finally displayed a 2:00 and Jeremy pushed himself upright. Squip had said that he would be home around four, so he had roughly two hours to get away, if he was lucky. He clenched his fist, twisting his body back before he launched his left hand's knuckles into the glass. 

White hot pain shot up his arm, and a scream left his lungs before he could help it. He yanked his hand back to him, which was the second dumbest thing he had done today. The glass bit into his flesh, and he realized that he’d cut parts of his arm open with his recklessness. He settled on the floor, trying his best to cradle his injured hand. He forced his fist open, breathing through his teeth as he removed a long shard of glass that had stabbed through his palm and out the other side of his hand, dropping the glass on the floor and laying back down, resting his hand on his stomach, his blood staining into his shirt and pooling by his elbow. Falling asleep seemed like a pretty nice idea right about now..

…

A few days into his capture, Squip allowed Jeremy to have access to the upstairs portion of the house while he was at work. Jeremy knew that trying to get away was a stupid idea the instant he'd punched out the window and sliced his hand open in more places than he cared to see. Squip had been furious, but not furious enough to leave him alone in the basement. Jeremy had been elevated to a brand new prison, one that was far more comfortable, with a warden that changed the dressings on his wounds each evening, and a television with 100+ channels. He nestled into the comforter of Squip's bed, flipping channels until he caught the tail end of some action thriller thing, and he stayed and watched whatever was on next. His unwrapped fingers curled into the bedding, and he nearly screamed when Squip finally returned home, unlocking the bedroom door.

"Jesus fuck, please knock next time!"

Squip nearly jumped at the sudden loud noise coming his way, Jeremy, in his bedroom, on his bed, yelling at him. 

"It's my bedroom," he replied, irritation painting his tone. He rolled his eyes and leaned against the door frame. "You shouldn't be doing anything in my bedroom that should require my knocking before entering, or did you forget why you're in here in the first place?" 

Squip had to admit, Jeremy's punching abilities were far more effective at punching people in the dick than punching through glass windows. He would have been angrier if it wasn't so pathetic. That and of course, it was his own fault for trusting Jeremy so quickly with free reign, he won't make the same mistake twice. He refused to let a moment of weakness and a lapse of brain activity to paint how he treated Jeremy, especially after disobeying. In the silence he could hear suspenseful music and a female screaming. 

"Now just what on earth are you watching?" he asked. If it was anything like what Squip thought Jeremy was watching, then he must either have a dark sense of humor or no sense of irony. Jeremy wriggled in the bed.

"Uh, I just kinda was flipping on the channels, but then this docu-film on Andrei Chikatilo came on, Citizen X, and it was really fascinating, I assume you've heard of him?" Squip hummed quietly, looking at the television screen. 

"Yes I've heard of him. He would kill to reach sexual climax and displayed many of the traits psychologists now look for in psychopaths," he paused and looked at Jeremy, folding his glasses over the collar of his scrub top. 

"You do remember that you're in the home of a serial killer, yes?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Surely he couldn't have been the one serial killer in all of New Jersey to pick up a fanboy by accident. Jeremy nodded. 

"Yeah, that's why I asked you to knock, didn't want to get murdered and jizzed on.." He laughed softly, grabbing for Squip with his non-bandaged hand. "C'mere, I'm stupid paranoid.." He blurted, smiling sheepishly at the killer in the doorway.

Squip couldn't help the goofy, exasperated grin that spread across his face, shoulders dropping from his usual defensive stance, Jeremy truly brought out the worst in him. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair and kicked his sneakers off by the side of the bed, sitting next to Jeremy above the covers, wrapping an arm around the smaller man.

"There there," he said jokingly. "I won't let any maniacs get to you. Well," he snorted softly. "Any more maniacs that is." It was just dawning on Squip how silly all of this was. Jeremy snuggled into Squip's side, transfixed by the action on the screen. 

"Thank you.." He murmured, watching the film dissolve into another film about a Canadian killer. 

"How was work?" He asked, turning his eyes onto the man holding him.

Squip raised an eyebrow, Jeremy was acting very strange. Just yesterday he was frothing at the mouth to escape and now he was cuddled up against his side. Not that Squip minded, not that he couldn't feel his heart pounding harder against his ribcage or the tension he didn't know he was holding onto melting away.

"It was... fine." He looked over Jeremy for any head trauma. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked. Jeremy nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I.. I think so? I.. I gotta get used to you if you’re gonna be nursing me instead of just giving me coffee and breakfast and leaving me in the basement.." He shrugged, the vague details about the speculations of how this guy disposed of the human bodies floating into his ear. He wasn’t really paying attention to the pig farm dude anymore, there was a far more fascinating killer right next to him. Squip nodded at Jeremy. He was doing this for comfort. The human cuddle hormone can create a bond between two people touching if they remain that way for over twenty seconds. A bond will help him relax, even if it's just chemical. 

"Yes well, you're much more pleasant to be around when you aren't destroying my property," he said lightly, rubbing Jeremy's shoulder to emphasize that he meant it good naturedly. "But speaking of, how is your hand doing?" he could see it resting on Jeremy's chest. The bleeding was far gone but Squip was still concerned about infection or shards of glass remaining in Jeremy's skin.

Jeremy wilted a bit, sighing. "Yeah, that was.. That was dumb of me, I don’t even know where I am, I dunno why I thought going outside would be smart.." He moved his hand a bit, offering it to Squip for him to inspect it. "I think it’s fine? Nothing is hurting other than the fact that my hand is one big open wound.."

Squip held the hand gently in his own, lightly turning and prodding it and looking to Jeremy to see his reactions. There were parts of the bandages that needed to be replaced but for the most part it looked as it did this morning. He brought the hand back down to Jeremy and patted it gently. 

"You'll live," he snarked. "I can rewrap it and give you some pain killers if it'll suit you," he said mildly. "Or we can continue this true crime rabbit hole you're going down." He gestured to the television screen. "Either way, you'll still need to have your dressings changed before you go to bed for the evening." Squip wasn't sure which answer he wanted. To change bandages and sit alone for the evening elsewhere in his house, or be next to Jeremy trying in vain to ignore how perfectly they fit together.

"Please stay.." He said softly. "The wrapping can wait, it’s not too bad.." Jeremy decided that it’d be safer to leave out the ‘And I’ve missed you in here’ at the end of that thought. He treated Jeremy so gently, like some broken-winged bird that he had been left to tend to, and in a sense, Jeremy realized that was just what he was. A trapped bird with wings clipped too close, rendered unable to fly.

Squip nodded gently, keeping his face neutral to hide the warmth he felt in his chest. He'd never expect Jeremy to ask him to stay but when he did it hurt in such a pleasant way Squip couldn't deny him anything. 

"I'll stay," he replied slowly, looking Jeremy over to see if this was some sort of trap. Surely it had to be but Squip couldn't gauge his motive yet, so he relaxed into the headboard of his bed, victim tucked up under his arm. Watching the screen switch from one killer to the next he recognized a familiar name. 

"Oh that guy was an imbecile," he groaned softly. "You don't just upload a video of yourself murdering someone to the internet." Jeremy furrowed his brows, cocking his head like a confused puppy.

"Why would you even do that? I’d assume if you wanna be a good killer, you want to keep as low of a profile as is possible, not shove your face into the internet for everyone to see.." Jeremy shook his head, curling against Squip's side and idly fiddling with the comforter.

Squip sighed and threw back his head. "Thank you, that's exactly the point I'm trying to make," he said, as if he's had this conversation before. "Honestly it's like these people want to get caught, like they're solely doing it for attention. If I wanted attention I would have gone into theater instead of murder." He mindlessly trailed his fingers up and down Jeremy's arm like he was petting a cat, watching the television with a sense of superiority that he remains uncaught and undetected. Just so long as he can keep Jeremy locked inside.

Jeremy felt pleasant chills travel up his spine as Squip pet his arm. "I think you’d make a great actor, if you ever wanted a fallback plan.." He mumbled, smiling gently as he continued to half-absorb the information being shown to him. Squip smiled softly, feeling the edge of the day fading into the background as Jeremy cuddled against him. 

"Why not, I pretend to be an average person all day, what's one more performance," he said idly. "I think you'd be a good therapist, you're very calming." He let the words flow from his mouth without thinking much about what they implied, just that it felt right. Jeremy blinked rapidly.

"I.. You think I’m calming? I feel like therapy from me would be the most ironic thing, someone with enough anxiety to basically rival the amount of water in my body giving people life help.." He laughed softly, looking up at the killer with a playful shine in his eyes. 

"So, Squip, if I may pry just a little, what goes through your head during a kill? What’s your thought process like?"

Squip knew he was revealing himself, putting his cards on the table the first chance he got, but it would still be hard for Jeremy to win. The only way he could is if he successfully escaped and if he did, then Squip supposed he deserved whatever would happen to him.

"Well, I tend to go after people who might end up missing anyway. The depressed or prone to bad decisions and if I'm lucky, both," he never had a preference of who to kill, just anyone that could fill his plate. 

"As for during a kill, this is the brilliant part Jeremy," he paused for dramatic effect, a large smile stretching over his face. "Nothing. It's one of the few times the static, the constant noise of my brain goes completely, blissfully silent. It's better than drugs, by far." It was better than almost anything.

Jeremy swallowed, trying his best not to gawk. "Ok, that's.. That's something.." He squeaked, pursing his lips and swishing his cheeks. "Do you have something that helps with the static? I assume you could get a med for that, if you don’t like it.. Usually when I’ve got static in my brain, it’s not a helpful thing, if I can’t focus, I’m kinda stranded.."

Squip relaxed back into the bed, brief bout of mania temporarily forgotten at the mention of medicine. Of the pills that laid untouched in the dark reaches of his cabinets, the nagging thought that he couldn't take them, because then he'd run out and not have any if he really needed them. 

"No, I don't take medicine," he said dully, not lying but not telling the truth. "My insurance doesn't cover the costs of a doctor or treatment." He hasn't had a doctor in so many years. He tilted his head at Jeremy, he could practically hear the poor man's heart beating out of his ribcage. 

"Tch, you didn't like my answer did you?" he asked, a teasing lilt hinting his voice. He rubbed Jeremy's shoulder softly.


	5. Heavy Dose of Atmosphere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting to like you, getting to hope you like me

Jeremy sighed shakily, shutting his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I find that last bit hard to believe, is all.. couldn’t you just write your own script?" he prodded, trying to diffuse the lingering terror. Squip felt nothing when he killed. The fact that Jeremy had willingly snuggled into the side of a psychopath resurfaced, gasping for air in his mind before it was pushed back beneath the surface to drown. Squip rolled his eyes and clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

“You don't have to believe me but I cannot. I don't have the qualifications and frankly I'm finished with nursing school for a while," he paused before a terrible thought creeped into his brain and rested comfortably on his tongue. "And even if I could, I don't think I would. I prefer the way I live," he said at last, renouncing his humanity yet again. Humanity was overrated at best and a squirming infested pool of maggots from what Squip could see.

Jeremy opened and closed his mouth, looking a bit like a beached fish as he shifted against the pillows. "I.. Ok.." He mumbled. He had no idea how he’d live without his medication, and he figured that part of his decision to punch out the window was due to the fact that he was off his anxiety meds, and the manic ideas that came to him weren’t able to be muffled by a mouthful of compressed powdered chemicals.

Squip almost immediately regretted his words as soon as he saw Jeremy's face fall so dramatically. But he couldn't show that to him, couldn't show Jeremy another window to shatter his knuckles against. Squip huffed and shifted slightly, loosening his arm around Jeremy, giving him the opportunity to flee to the other side of the bed if he so wished.

"Jeremy while I assume you wouldn't agree with your... humanity and ethics," he said those words like they were slurs. "Everyone is going to die, I simply prefer to take matters into my own hands, and why waste perfectly good flesh." He voice was light and conversational but his eyes had a wolfish glint to them, uncanny and inhuman.

Jeremy squirmed under Squip's gaze, something about his eyes making him want to claw off his own skin. He nodded a few times, curling onto his side and facing Squip, nuzzling into the bedding as he cocooned himself in the blankets. "Just don’t kill me in my sleep.." He said softly, his voice monotonous. He wasn’t sure if he actually meant that or if it was just a joke, but it was better in his mind to be safe about it.

Squip scoffed, trying to keep his mind off of how cute Jeremy looked. Trying to keep his mind off of early mornings waking up next to Jeremy, hearing his voice rough with sleep against his ear.

"Obviously not, it would be a shame to kill someone as spirited as you in his sleep. I'll kill you while you're awake," he said idly. Noticing the terrified look in Jeremy's eyes he backpedaled sheepishly.

"It was a joke," he tittered. "I wouldn't actually kill you- in any state of consciousness for that matter." This wasn't helping. Miraculously he was making things more awkward than a serial killer cuddling his former victim, watching documentaries about other killers.

Jeremy burrowed into the blankets. "Wh-whatever you say.." He stammered, the tv muffled by the layers of fabric he had put between himself and Squip. Squip hummed softly, returning his attention to the television. He ran his fingers through Jeremy's hair softly, blunt nails just barely scraping against his scalp, disturbing some loose skin flakes.

"I wouldn't, you know. It was an off-color joke and it was... inappropriate considering the circumstances. I meant what I said- from before. You're different from any other person I've met," he said softly, watching the screen dully. He couldn't ignore his true nature, but he also couldn't ignore the strange and peculiar feelings Jeremy planted inside of him. Jeremy frowned a bit, turning to look at Squip quizzically.

"You.. really think I'm different?" he blinked, peering out from his hiding place under the bedding. "I wouldn't say so, but I'm not you, so I don't know the kind of shit you've dealt with.. I'm assuming it's a lot since you're.. a serial murderer and cannibal.."

Squip smiled gently at Jeremy's confused face, he really was adorable. "You are, trust me. I have never been dealt the gentleness you've shown me. You're very strange, Jeremy. But," he paused, pursing his lips. He could hear blood behind his eardrums, the static in his head yelling at him to shut up, stop talking, show no feeling. He ignored it. "I find that endearing," he finished.

Jeremy snuggled into Squip's side, his head on his lap. "O-oh.. I.. thank you, I guess..?" He smiled gently, trying not to shake. He was doing this willingly, but he reasoned that he was only snuggly because he was cold. Yeah, sure, that was it was...

Squip cocked his head slightly at Jeremy's head now sitting in his lap but ran a hand through the messy brown locks like a cat. He felt like a villain, large brown cat in lap, waiting for the hero to fall into his clutches. But no cat and no hero, only a villain and only Jeremy.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked teasingly, shaking himself out of his fantasy. He hoped to not make this a habit, but being with Jeremy, his brain can't help but turn towards the fanciful.

Jeremy nodded, smiling a bit. "I.. yeah, I'm comfy.. is this ok?"

Squip hummed softly looking at Jeremy. The sun was setting, orange light from the window making Jeremy's hair look absolutely fiery. The television was the only source of light in the room, which now held a cozy feeling that Squip never noticed before.

"You're alright," he said gently, as if raising his voice would shatter the comfort he felt. He snuggled back into the bed, trying to ignore the traitorous thought that wanted him to curl up against Jeremy. Jeremy sighed softly, rocking gently as Squip carded his fingers through Jeremy's hair.

"You can change the channel if you want to.." he murmured, feeling almost normal, as if he was snuggled up to Michael and they were lazing around on a Saturday night. Squip nodded slightly, humming that he was still listening.

"Oh, I'm not sure, I probably don't- you probably aren't interested in what I have to watch," Squip said, thinking back on afternoons dissociating in and out of his body watching re-runs of Star Trek. It was sad, he was sad the way he relied on sci-fi, as if instead of a terribly broken man he could be an all knowing computer, electricity running through his veins instead of icy cold blood. If anything, he'd have the same empathy and morals that he has now.

Jeremy pursed his lips. "What do you usually watch, I'm pretty sure you couldn't make me uncomfy.." He laughed softly.

Squip shifted slightly before switching the channel easily, he had so many but really only ever used one or two. The opening theme to Quantum Leap played over the television's speakers. He bit his bottom lip softly, as if waiting for Jeremy to mock him. He'd mock himself too if he was in Jeremy's place, all his nerdiness is ugly.

"Well, this is usually how I spend evenings in," he said softly. Petting Jeremy's hair somehow became a nervous tic for him, but feeling the warmth of his scalp against his fingers soothed him. He could feel the other man slowly falling asleep against him, head getting heavier as the minutes passed. Jeremy sleepily grinned into Squip’s side.

“You're in luck,” he said softly, not bothering to hide the amusement in his eyes. Squip raised his eyebrow sharply.

“Oh?” he replied, unsure of where exactly Jeremy was going with this train of thought.

“I like this show too,” he said, nuzzling forward into the warmth of early evening. He was too tired from stress to really watch any of it but just the sound of something familiar, something that reminded him of home was enough to lull Jeremy into a feeling of security.

...

When Squip was certain Jeremy was asleep an episode and a half into Quantum Leap, he squirmed out from under the man's body to get his nursing bag to change and clean Jeremy's dressings. Once he deemed it good enough for the evening he set about both carrying Jeremy so as to not wake him while also maneuvering against the many locked doors of his house leading to his basement.

Setting Jeremy down on the cool concrete floor Squip found himself missing the other's heat but tried to wrench it from his mind. He locked the other's ankle in place, chained to his wall but so different than the first time Squip had done this to his unconscious body. He padded back up the stairs, agitating a loose thread in his shirt. His nerves felt on fire, and he feared he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

Jeremy didn't remember when he had been moved back down to the basement. His eyes opened slowly, and he adapted slowly to the dimness that surrounded him. His hand was wrapped in clean bandages, and he could feel the cold chill of the chain around his ankle. He was alone. And he absolutely hated it.

He sat himself up, slumping against the wall as he stared at the door, hoping, praying even that Squip would come back for him.

Squip laid awake in his bed, the warm spot from where Jeremy laid now cold from him being gone. He's never had trouble sleeping in the past but for some reason tonight everything felt too big. Too cold. His skin burned with unspent energy that kept him awake. Looking over to where Jeremy once was, he sighed and rolled off the bed, deciding to pad back down to the basement. Maybe, maybe Jeremy was awake too. Maybe things will be less lonely with him around, he thought as he crept quietly down the basement steps. He was too tired to try and rationalize his feelings, whatever they were.

Jeremy's eyes grew wide as the door at the top of the stairs opened, causing his heart to swell with joy. He smiled hopefully, rocking gently and tugging on his chain.

"Hey.." He managed, his pulse still thrumming in his ears, still driving him up the wall with its fake static. "Am.. am I allowed upstairs..?" He asked softly, wetting his lips rapidly.

Squip smiled softly, bringing out his ring of keys from his sleep pant's pocket. He knelt down next to Jeremy and undid the lock on his chain.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, voice low. "I thought maybe we could keep each other company until we fall asleep." The lock clicked open, loud and echoing in the quiet of the big empty house. Squip felt Jeremy's skin under his own, scooping him up to carry him up the stairs. It was soft and unlike most textures that repulsed Squip, them being pressed together felt all together too good. Jeremy nuzzled into Squip's chest, arms draped loosely around his neck as he was carried back up the stairs.

"That sounds ok with me.. I couldn't sleep that good, either.." He admitted, feeling the heavy push of his exhaustion pressing down on him like a weighted blanket.

Bringing the two of them back into his bedroom, Squip set Jeremy gently down on the bed before turning back and locking the door, key safely tucked away in a drawer on his side of the bed.

"It's just a precaution, surely you understand," he said sleepily with a yawn, settling back down into his bed. With another body next to him he could feel a sense of ease wash over him that he never felt with anyone else. He wasn't sure if he liked how much he liked Jeremy's company, but he was certain he has little control over it. He settled under the blankets and turned, facing Jeremy. He couldn't help the soft grin that crept over his face as he said "Hi."

Jeremy smiled sweetly, nuzzling against Squip's chest and slitting his leg between Squip's own.

"Hi, sorry, I.. you're really warm.." He murmured, wrapping his arms around Squip's neck. "I'm kinda.. less warm.."

Squip grinned, small and crooked and maybe a tad clueless. He felt his heart skip and jump in his hollow chest feeling Jeremy's cold hands on his back and his cold feet against his clothed legs.

"That's alright," he said softly, wrapping his own arms around Jeremy gingerly, as if he'd disintegrate if they touched for too long, like a feather against hot coals. "Together we make ideal thermodynamic equilibrium," he joked softly. Everything felt soft without the sharpness of day. Jeremy laughed.

"Nooo, no big words, I'm too sleepy.." He whimpered, his voice tapering. "I.. This is nice.." He admitted, his cheeks dusting with light blush.

Squip couldn't help but chuckle at Jeremy, he was terribly cute like this, even though he's terribly cute most of the time as well. He curled in more, forgetting to keep his distance from Jeremy, forgetting just who and what he is and giving in to the warmth that the other man planted in his ribcage.

"It is nice," he said, words far away and dream like. "You're so enchanting," he murmured under his breath, so quiet and sleepy it was almost like he just thought the sentence into existence rather than speaking it.

Jeremy looked up at Squip, his lips forming a small curious "o".

"Am I..?" Jeremy asked, his voice soft and fragile and timid, as if merely asking Squip if he meant that would shatter the dream-like high he was floating through, would force him to wake up back in the basement.

Squip felt a cold chill of shame run through him, so he had said that out loud and Jeremy had heard him. However, he reasoned, he could simply deny the whole conversation in the morning, play it off that Jeremy is clearly delusional, suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. That could work. But for now he wanted to take what he could from this moment, soak up the warmth of Jeremy's sun into his roots.

"You are," he said quietly, eyes half lidded and gentle as he looked at Jeremy. "I really enjoy spending time with you Jeremy." It was dangerous, it was a shot in the dark but Squip lived most of his life in the dark so he'd risk it. He pressed a soft kiss to Jeremy's forehead, barely a kiss but lips still touching the cool vaguely oily skin of Jeremy's face. Jeremy hummed softly at the contact on his forehead, his heart flip-flopping in his chest.

"I.. I like spending time with you, too.. You're nice to be around, you're warm and gentle and not trying to kill me anymore even though I caused property damage.." He rambled, laughing at his off-handed remark about the shattered window and his mutilated hand.

Squip grinned gently. "Oh Jeremy, you're too much, you'll inflate my ego speaking like that," he said, voice light and playful despite the sleep that laced his tone.

"You know, I don't think I could kill you even if I wanted to. You're worth too much to me alive than dead," he paused, head nuzzling further into his pillows, the soft scratching sound of his stubble on cotton the only sound in the room.

"I'm so tired," he muttered, sleepy grin playing on his lips. His hands traced soft patterns against Jeremy's back, slow and lazy. Jeremy blinked up at Squip, shutting his eyes and leaning into Squip's hands.

"Then.. then you should sleep, Squip.." He mumbled, nuzzling into the pillows. "It's nice and warm.. You should sleep.."

Squip nodded sleepily, as if in a trance.

"You're nice and warm," he repeated, draping his limbs around Jeremy like an octopus clinging to shore. "I'm falling asleep," he murmured, tucking his head against Jeremy's hair. He'd regret this when he's in his own mind in the morning. Giving up power and fear for a night of comfort. But it was the easiest sleep Squip ever had, the nightmares and static quieted under the sounds of Jeremy's gentle breathing.

Jeremy nearly melted into Squip's grip, passing into a sound and solid sleep.

He didn't wake up when Squip got up, replacing the man with one of his pillows, snuggling back into bed as Squip went about preparing for his day. The only thing that woke him was the sound of the shower shutting off, and he sat up, hair tousled and sticking up in various directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the chapter delay, I've been sick and not able to edit properly, but hopefully the fluff makes up for it :)


	6. There Will Be No Tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I bet you thought you saw the last of us

Squip woke peacefully, the sun hitting his eyes as he tried to snuggle back into his pillow for more sleep, until he discovered that his pillow was the top of Jeremy's head. Visions of last night swarmed through his mind as his face warmed, thinking about how stupid he was, the shit show he got himself into. He disconnected himself from Jeremy and tried to just pretend it was normal. Get his scrubs out of his closet and take a shower, try to scrub the shame off his pitiful body, so touched starved throughout the years. Prying himself out of Jeremy's clutches he left for the bathroom, feeling fugitive in his own home.

The shower ended up less showering and more wet sulking, anxious mind coming up with a game plan on how to get Jeremy back to the basement asap. Getting dressed was more of the same except now he could feel his dripping wet curls against his skin like hot irons. Walking back into his bedroom would have been the same except for Jeremy popped upright, looking like an extra in Return of the Living Dead. He suppressed a scared squeak as his cleared his throat, straightening out his posture, not fiddling with a loose thread at the long sleeve of his undershirt. 

"You need to get back in the basement,” he said, voice stern yet shaking with unspoken fear. His heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest, like Jeremy could see through his facade, see how much of him didn't want Jeremy to leave. He suppressed it under a cool authoritarian gaze of an experienced serial killer. 

“I- what?” Jeremy asked, mouth working before his brain could catch up to him. He stared at Squip in confusion and a kind of hurt that sent bullets through Squip’s heart. 

“You need to get back into the basement,” Squip repeated. “Right now.” 

Jeremy felt his heart sink, he felt all the warmth in his body leaving and tears pressing back against his eyes. It was like, like last night was nothing. Like he was nothing. Like he was just a toy. 

Or food. 

Or better off dead. 

“I- I don't understand,” he protested. “You brought me up here last night, you- you kissed-”

“Last night was a mistake!” Squip shouted, voice heavy with something unsaid. He looked away, anywhere but at Jeremy, anywhere where Jeremy couldn't see the glossiness in his eyes. “It was a moment of weakness that will not be shown again, now you will get where you belong or else-”

“Or else what, Squip?” Jeremy challenged. “Huh? What are you gonna do to me?” Jeremy raised himself up on his knees, eye level with the serial killer he's taunting before him. A dark look clouded Squip’s features. 

“Or else I'll throw you down there,” he growled. Jeremy shrunk down briefly, heart hammering hard in his chest. He shouldn’t argue, it was stupid and suicidal to argue with this, this thing. This cannibal. But, he saw his softness, his insecurity- if only he could find someway to drag it back out. To reason with him, to prove he wasn’t a mistake. 

“Please Squip, don’t throw me down there,” Jeremy said demurely, rocking back and forth slightly. Squip sighed. 

“You’re vile, vermin at best,” Squip said tenderly, breaking Jeremy’s heart. “You confuse me and it hurts, I can’t focus when you’re around.” Squip scooped Jeremy up into his arms and started to carry him to the basement door, speaking in that same low monotone as if Jeremy isn’t clawing and screaming and kicking for escape. 

“-so you must know why I can’t, you see? It’s just impossible, we’re too different,” Squip said, opening the basement door, waiting for Jeremy to cease his screaming. And he did. 

“No, you know what I see? A coward. I see someone too fucked up for the rest of the world so you steal them and manipulate them until they’re just as fucked up as you are. You’re not even a monster, you’re just weak-”

And that’s when Squip dropped Jeremy down the stairs. 

Jeremy felt his body lurch backwards, felt his nails claw at Squip's arms as he tried to stay upright and above ground, felt the wood of the stairs bite into his spine, and, if he hadn't just had the air thrown from him, he would've screamed as pain shot up his spine like white lightning that shocked through his eyesockets as the back of his head hit against the concrete. Something felt broken, more than broken, something felt out of place and wrong and- He couldn't move. He felt warm tears begin to clean trails against his cheeks. He pushed himself onto his side, clenching his jaw hard enough that he was shocked he didn't crack any of his teeth, and curled in on himself as best he could, even just gradually shifting his legs was agony.

Squip watched the whole scene with a dispassionate eye. Watched until Jeremy hit the floor and pitifully tried to curl in on himself like a wounded animal. 

“I’ll speak with you after work,” he said dully before closing the door behind him. Only once the door was closed could he let his breathing hitch, his heart skip beats, his palms sweat. Like he knows he’s broken the one thing he cares about, which is stupid to even think. It’s stupid to even care about him, about whimpering little Jeremy afraid of his own shadow. Whimpering little Jeremy that stands so tall despite his fear. Jeremy who’s braver than- 

Forget it. 

Squip grabbed his nursing bag and left, because he refused to let today be anything but a normal day.

Underneath the floorboards, Jeremy lay curled as best he could on the cool concrete floor, trying to melt into the basement around him and be anywhere except for here, broken in Squip's home, with no hope of ever seeing his family or his boyfriend ever again. He couldn’t move much, he’d tried a bit more and that had made the pain worse, shifted his shattered tailbone even more, so he did the one thing that he could. 

He cried. He lay there, a pathetic heap of fabric and flesh, and cried until sleep was able to bite back into him, and he was numb again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly, this sure was overdue, but my coauthor and I finally have our muses back so updates should be a little more regular (fingers crossed) as always, thank you for reading


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